


Contagious

by Arke



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Established Relationship, Flirting, Fluff(?), Hand Jobs, Light Angst, M/M, Post-War, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-27 23:18:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10818840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arke/pseuds/Arke
Summary: With the war over and the Reapers destroyed, the galaxy spends all its time healing.The more time Shepard spends stuck in his hospital bed, the more impatient he gets.And Kaidan hasn't built up much resistance, either.





	Contagious

Every day was the same.

The cardiac monitor incessantly ringing from its perch on the counter near his bed.  The doctors poking and prodding and conjuring up yet another test to run.  The surgeons checking on their handiwork in the aftermath of his latest surgery.  The nurses changing his bandages and checking his vitals far too many times.  The physical therapists coaxing him from bed for light exercise sessions that always made him question how all the pain was actually beneficial.

The worst of it was long over, but Shepard had already been in recovery for months, largely relying on bed rest and therapy to ease the remnants of war from his shoulders.

Every day ended with him lying still in his hospital bed, watching his own unmoving day-to-day as the galaxy rebuilt itself just outside of the window at the opposite end of the room.

Every night, he closed his eyes and let himself fall into a dreamless sleep.

But he never woke up to an empty room.  He never woke up alone.

He opened his eyes and turned his head against the pillow to find Kaidan, sitting in a stiff chair as he had been for months – at his side, where he had always been.  In these early spring days, a soft light filtered in through the window, scattered rays of sunlight peeking through the gray haze that perpetually covered London, contouring the lines on Kaidan’s face as he slept, arms folded and head hanging low and body pressing against the back of the chair at an awkward angle.

Shepard had still not quite gotten used to seeing Kaidan in his civvies – usually plain t-shirts with teasingly low collars and jeans that clung a little too closely to well-defined muscles – but he looked good in them.  He looked comfortable in his new skin and in his new life, however much of it was now being spent waiting at Shepard’s bedside while he struggled through recovery.

But still, he looked free.

It suited him so well.  And as Shepard lay there, drawing the sheet from over his own scarred body and watching Kaidan breathe, slowly, rhythmically, he had to smile.  Kaidan actually looked somewhat peaceful in his sleep.

Then Kaidan stirred in the chair, taking in a deep breath as his eyes opened and met Shepard’s across the short distance between them.

“Hey,” he said, short and simple and sweet.

Shepard cocked an eyebrow.  “They let you stay overnight again?” he teased.

Kaidan scratched at the side of his neck and muttered, “Uh, well… ‘let’ isn’t exactly accurate.”

“You were always stubborn.”

“Maybe.”

Kaidan stretched, arms extending as he twisted his torso, arching his neck and tilting his head to one side.  And Shepard watched him, watched his biceps flex as his hands clenched and loosened, watched his chest rise and fall beneath the too-tight fabric of his shirt, watched his Adam’s apple bob on an unexpectedly hard swallow.

Shepard watched his every little movement, listened to his every staggered breath and every tiny sound that slipped from slightly-parted lips on a suppressed yawn.  And for a few seconds he was lost in moments past, hot and frantic and maybe a little desperate, warm flesh pressing against him and rippled muscles writhing against his and strong hands holding on to stolen time for all they could.

Shepard bit his lip and ignored the subtle twist low in his gut.

“Sleeping on the job, Kaidan?” he asked.

“I’m not sleeping… not really,” Kaidan replied as he settled back against the chair, letting his hands fall to his thighs.  “I’m more resting my eyes, I guess.  Still, though… what a sight to wake up to.”

Shepard offered a weak smile as Kaidan reached for his hand and held it, softly and gently, all too mindful of his stitches and scars. 

“How are you doing?” Kaidan asked, his thumb smoothing over the back of Shepard’s hand.

“Sore, as usual,” Shepard replied.

“Yeah,” was all Kaidan could manage in response.  His eyes flicked down to their joined hands, where Shepard’s bandaged fingers had wrapped around the edges of his own.  “The therapy’s been tough, huh?”

“Not just that,” Shepard said, and Kaidan looked back at him.  “It’s just— I don’t know… constant.”

A constant, dull ache in his joints and his muscles and his bones, not quite enough to be painful.  That in itself meant he had made tremendous progress since that day, since he had destroyed the Reapers, since he had fallen into an unconscious haze, since time had been lost to endless surgeries and repeated bouts of induced comas.  But it also meant that he still had a long way to go.

Kaidan could read him so easily.

“I know it’s not pleasant, but…”

Shepard glanced away, eyes darting between two empty spaces on the opposite wall.  “I guess I’ve been through worse, huh?” he finally said, eyes slowly turning back toward Kaidan.

“Yeah,” Kaidan said, nearly a whisper.  “You have.”

Shepard watched as Kaidan’s eyes fell again, gaze lost somewhere in the folds of the sheet beneath their hands. 

“It’ll be nice to be back in a real bed,” he said.

Kaidan looked up.  “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”  Shepard’s voice was a little deeper, a little rougher.  “And nothing stopping you from bending me over and fucking me senseless.”

Kaidan let out a breathless chuckle.  “Might need a doctor’s note for that now, John.”

Shepard scoffed at that.  “All their advice is just suggestion, you know.”

“Now who’s being stubborn?”

Shepard smirked, and Kaidan leaned forward and kissed him, light and gentle, enjoying the stubble brushing backward against his skin and the way Shepard tilted his head the slightest bit in a silent search for the perfect angle.  When Kaidan drew back, Shepard sighed, a tiny breath chasing the soft lips that had left him much too quickly.

And when Kaidan smiled at him, a tiny quirk at the corner of his mouth and a flicker of light in his eye, Shepard again felt that familiar tension low in his gut. 

“Still feeling sore?” Kaidan asked, voice calm and eyes earnest – just as they had always been.

“Yeah.”

Another stroke of Kaidan’s thumb over his hand, and Shepard swallowed the curse that lingered on the tip of his tongue.  He wanted this, he needed it, he needed to do something—

He pushed himself up on one forearm, steeling his expression to conceal the aching pull of sore muscles and healing scars, and angled his head to kiss Kaidan once more.  The surprised hesitation he initially met quickly faded, tender strokes of the lips following him as he let himself sink back onto the mattress.

His fingers threaded through Kaidan’s hair, trembling against the back of his skull as Kaidan leaned in a little further and kissed him a little deeper.  One of Kaidan’s hands cupped his cheek, palm spreading out against the scratch of stubble, and the other fell to the mattress and weaved its way under the sheet, tracing feather-light touches over the ridges of scars buried beneath all those bandages.  And Shepard shivered under the touch, the phantom feeling of those fingertips gracing over his skin and gently circling around the faded outlines of muscle.

He saw Kaidan every day, but he missed the closeness, the intimacy of lips brushing over lips on long, fervent strokes and flesh writhing against flesh, hot and hard, over and over.  Since he had been cleared for visitors, he and Kaidan were able to steal the occasional longing kiss or suggestive glance behind closed doors.  But he wanted out of the hospital, he wanted to start living his life again, and he wanted _Kaidan_.

Kaidan parted from him, and they simply stayed there, hands frozen in place on each other, light touches that read every feeling so easily.  Everything about this moment was incredible.  

Kaidan’s eyes met his with a soft gaze.  A hand sprawled out dangerously close to the waistband of his hospital-issued briefs, and Shepard bit his lip on a broken sigh.  His stomach was tense and his cheeks were warm and the starchy fabric of his briefs was starting to feel tight.  Shepard turned his head slightly, craning his neck toward Kaidan as best he could, his voice low and rough when he finally opened his mouth.

“Now I’m feeling a little stiff.”

Kaidan started to stand.  “Let me see if I can get the nurse—”

“Kaidan.”

He stopped where he was when he saw the look in Shepard’s eyes – half-lidded and glazed over with desire.

“…Oh.  _Oh_.”  He dragged the chair closer to Shepard’s bed, leaning forward with a grin plastered upon his face.  “Well, I might be able to help you with that.”

A hand slid under the sheet and traced along the slant of Shepard’s hip toward his briefs.  And Shepard gasped at the touch, the friction of the palm pulling against the fabric, the sensation of deft fingertips spreading out over the edges of the bulge that strained against it…

The feeling of those hands finally enjoying the freedom to roam.

The time they had stolen during the war now made for bittersweet memories: meaningful glances across the mess hall, brief kisses behind secluded bulkheads, and hands fighting with the clasps and zippers of their uniforms in desperation to feel skin on skin, lips on lips, warm sweat and frantic breaths and rapid heartbeats.

And now, everything had changed.  Kaidan had to chuckle under his breath, a tiny sound that revered this moment for what it was.

His fingers effortlessly slipped under the waistband of Shepard’s briefs.

“Easy access,” he said, a husky laugh chasing his words.

Shepard returned it with a half-laugh of his own.  “That might be the only good thing about being stuck wearing this shit—”

His voice caught on a hitched breath when he felt Kaidan’s hand trace over his erection, fingertips trailing perfectly straight lines up the sides, palm flattening along the shaft in a single slow stroke.  He shuddered under the sensation, the warmth of that callused hand on his flesh, and tilted his head back against the pillow to let out a low groan.

Kaidan swallowed hard.  He was sinking into the feeling, losing himself in the sound of Shepard’s voice, raw with pure need.

“Damn, it’s been so long, Kaidan…”

A few tentative strokes of Kaidan’s thumb over the tip drew the air from his lungs, a breathy sigh bleeding into a moan.  And Kaidan watched him, eyes a darker shade of brown, a hint of red staining angular cheekbones.  Shepard leaned forward as best he could and kissed him, opening his mouth to Kaidan’s and closing the distance between them until all each of them could feel was the other.

Shepard tensed when Kaidan’s hand wrapped around his shaft, dexterous fingers moving with a little more certainty.  Every measured stroke sent a spark up his spine, and Shepard arched into it, turning his body slightly to meet every curl of the wrist along the shaft and every flick of the thumb over the slit.  He moaned into Kaidan’s mouth, the sound quickly lost between their lips as they met over and over again, and Kaidan leaned further in and kissed him a little harder, a little deeper.

And suddenly Shepard jerked away from him, lips coming apart with a wet sound and then a sharp gasp.  Kaidan pulled back, eyes frantically scanning over the grimace on Shepard’s face.

Shepard bit his lip and shifted in the bed, muttering under his breath about fresh stitches.  Kaidan smiled weakly at him, trailing his fingertips over the slant of Shepard’s hip as he drew his hand from beneath the sheet, and Shepard let out a grunt of frustration.

Kaidan took Shepard’s hand in his own and chuckled, but it was soft, apologetic.  “Maybe this wasn’t the best idea,” he said.  Shepard’s fingers curled around his, and Kaidan gave them a gentle squeeze in reassurance.

A moment of silence fell upon the room, thick and heavy.

Shepard dragged the sheet up to cover his waist and began to shift uncomfortably against the mattress.  The bed was annoyingly stiff and the fabric of his briefs was too tight.  The coil low in his gut had tightened to the point of breaking.

“Need a hand?” Kaidan suddenly asked.

Kaidan had always been able to read him so easily.

Shepard cast a sideways glance at him, then stared at the wall to avoid that teasing little smirk on his face.  “You have no idea,” he muttered, and from the corner of his eye, he could see Kaidan’s smile grow a little wider.

“I’m pretty sure I have _some_ idea,” he replied.

Shepard turned his head, watching the flicker in Kaidan’s eyes and the grin lingering on his lips.  “When I get out of here, you’re going to finish what you started,” he said.

He almost made it sound like an order.  And maybe it was.

Kaidan leaned in, palm brushing against Shepard’s thick stubble and fingers curling around the nape of his neck.  He rested his cheek against Shepard’s and relished in the prickling sensation against his skin, lips parting to release breaths that were hot and heavy in Shepard’s ear.

“I’ll do more than that,” he whispered, his voice low, rough, and dangerously enticing.

He caught Shepard’s earlobe between his teeth, a final heated breath teasing at the flushed skin when he let it go.  Shepard’s eyes fluttered shut as the tip of Kaidan’s tongue traced the shell of his ear, sending a shiver down his spine and static through his nerves.  Kaidan’s lips marked a path toward his temple and Kaidan’s touch warmed his skin and Kaidan’s scent wafted into the air all around him.  He breathed in the tension already palpable in the air, in what little space remained between them.

He wanted Kaidan so badly that he could taste it.

“To hell with it.  I want this.  I want you.  Now.”

He saw the defeatist laugh on Kaidan’s face long before he heard it leave his mouth.

“Heh… well, I wouldn’t want to set back your recovery,” Kaidan replied, shrugging his shoulders.

“I’ve managed to live through a lot so far,” Shepard said, his tone unusually stern.  “I don’t think one earth-shattering orgasm is going to change that.”

Kaidan rubbed the side of his neck, his telltale nervous habit that he had never managed to leave behind in the past where it belonged.  He glanced over his shoulder at the closed door, but still his voice faltered with uncertainty.

“Y-Yeah, but…”

Shepard grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him down to his level, crashing their lips together and forcing his tongue past the seam of Kaidan’s lips.  Kaidan moaned with the sensation, the feeling of Shepard’s tongue trailing along the roof of his mouth and against the back of his teeth and everywhere else it could reach, claiming his unspoken words and demanding so much more.  The rational part of his brain melted away under the heat of the moment – the fire that burned under Shepard’s skin and overwhelmed all else.

That raw desire was contagious.

He pressed forward, tongue twining around Shepard’s as their lips met on more fervent strokes – eager and intense and hot – and his hand grazed over his lover’s hip and drew his briefs down.  Shepard’s achingly-hard length twitched under his callused fingers as they curled around the shaft and began to stroke, long and deliberate and with subtle twists of the wrist that earned him a few groans of pleasure.

Kaidan pulled back, watching the string of saliva collapse between them and licking his lips when Shepard let out a fractured sigh, blue eyes half-lidded and lost in the sight and sound and touch.

He edged closer, feeling the tiny prickling sensation of Shepard’s stubble against his lips and the hot breaths that wafted about his neck as Shepard panted against him.  “Someone could walk in on us at any time, you know,” he said, wet lips now barely touching Shepard’s with every syllable.  “I’m starting to think that you rather like that idea.”

Shepard grinned, teasing, somehow defiant.  “Maybe I like the danger,” he said, voice deep and resonating, daring him to do more.

Kaidan chuckled.  “Some things never change.”

His thumb slid over the tip of Shepard’s erection and spread the beaded pre-cum along the shaft on the way down, causing Shepard to gasp and groan and shudder beneath him.

Every perfect flick of the wrist had him trembling, chest heaving beneath thick bandages with his rapid breaths, the tension in his body and the pull of scar tissue and new stitches alike fading under the heat, the intensity, the unyielding need for this – this long-lost pleasure, this intimate touch, this shared moment.

“ _Kaidan_ —”

The name was pure desire – a sound lost somewhere between a sigh and a moan, a sound that Kaidan had missed so much.

And then Shepard fell back into panting, eyes fluttering shut as Kaidan stroked him, harder, faster, and with undeniable intent.  His hands clenched the sheet, his brow furrowed, and his muscles tensed and flexed beyond his control, desire and need coiling in the air between them on frantic breaths and shooting through his nerves in every direction with every stroke.

Kaidan turned his head and trailed his tongue up the side of Shepard’s neck, the pointed tip teasing at the hinge of his jaw and then tracing a sharp line to his mouth, where it dipped between Shepard’s lips and muffled his low cries of pleasure.  Shepard groaned, lips trembling against Kaidan’s as he drew nearer and nearer to the edge until he was too close to falling.

He writhed under the perfect strokes, the ridges of Kaidan’s fingers fisting over the head and drawing the leaking pre-cum along the entire length on every motion.  Kaidan pulled back, tongue tracing over Shepard’s bottom lip before leaving him completely, and Shepard opened his eyes to find Kaidan gazing back at him, all desire and need and love reflecting back at him in a single glance.

He bucked his hips up as he came, spilling himself into Kaidan’s hand as his orgasm hit in waves, sore muscles contracting over and over under pure pleasure rather than pain – finally.  His breathing began to normalize and his hands slowly began to unfurl from the sheet, and the flicker of light in Kaidan’s eye told him everything.

Kaidan kissed him, just once, a quick peck of the lips that said so much through its simplicity.

Then he sat back in the chair and looked over the long ropes of cum newly coating his hand.

“Uh… one sec.”  He rose from the chair and headed for the attached washroom for some tissues.

Shepard laughed, airy and light, as he pulled the waistband of his briefs back into place.  “So romantic.”

“Hey, I wasn’t exactly prepared,” Kaidan called from the washroom.  He feigned a pout when he returned to his chair and took a seat.  “When I woke up this morning, I didn’t think I was going to end up doing this.”

“So you _were_ sleeping.”

“I might’ve been.”

Shepard’s smile faded when he noticed the bulge straining against the front of Kaidan’s jeans.

“Kaidan…”

He lifted a hand to reach for him, and Kaidan caught it in his own.

“Don’t worry about me,” he said, pausing to place a brief kiss on the back of Shepard’s hand.

Shepard let himself settle against the sheet, squeezing Kaidan’s hand as he said, “Then I guess I owe you one.”

“I think we can arrange something.”

As the world began to return to him, Kaidan found himself swallowing hard.  The cardiac monitor at the other side of Shepard’s bed was slowly decreasing in tempo, more light had begun to filter in through the window at the other end of the room, and he chanced another glance over his shoulder to check that the door had actually been closed.  He had fallen into long-buried desire, and he had fallen hard and fast enough to break the control in which he had always prided himself.

And yet, he would do it again in a heartbeat.  Still, though—

“Well, that was… different,” he said, voice catching on a laugh that only made it halfway there.

“Didn’t seem to stop you in the end,” Shepard said.

“You’re hard to resist,” Kaidan replied.

Shepard cocked an eyebrow at that.  “Even now?”

“More than ever.”

Maybe Shepard had grown impatient as of late – not that Kaidan could find it entirely unreasonable – but he had faced the galaxy as it collapsed around him, he had undergone so much pain and frustration already, and for all his efforts he was undeniably alive.  There was so much more left for him, for both of them, and Kaidan loved it all.

He loved the hints of gray in Shepard’s stubble.  He loved the lines upon his brow and at the corners of his eyes.  The scars from battle and surgery alike would fade with time, but this feeling – the love they shared – was eternal, transcending war and fear and uncertainty, permanently etched into both of their lives in hopeful words and soft kisses and unconditional desire for one another, now and forever.

Shepard smiled, and he hoped it said everything he wanted.

He knew he was in deep.  He had been for such a long time.  Not that he had ever had to stare down his reflection in the mirror and explicitly tell himself, _I’m in so deep that I can’t even see the surface anymore_ , but he was fairly certain of it.  And with every passing day that he woke to find Kaidan at his bedside, he sank a little deeper.

“I love you, Kaidan.”

“I love you, too.”

For now, this would do just fine.

Kaidan gave his hand a gentle squeeze and then leaned forward to kiss him, impossibly soft and sweet and with the familiar hint of hope that made each day a bit brighter than the last.  He cupped Shepard’s face in his hands and pulled back, just enough to see the tiny creases at the corners of his eyes stretch a little further with his widening smile.

That smile was beautifully contagious, too.


End file.
